


Heroes

by mystiri1



Category: Crisis Core: Final Fantasy VII
Genre: Character Study, Friendship, M/M, Rivalry, Threesome
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-29
Updated: 2010-08-29
Packaged: 2017-10-11 07:51:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/110113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mystiri1/pseuds/mystiri1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After leaving ShinRa, Angeal considers what it means to be a hero.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heroes

The desire to be a hero, Angeal thought, destroyed more men than it ever lifted up to those dizzying heights.

His own perception of what a hero was came from sitting on his father’s lap as a small boy, listening to him talk of honour, pride and discipline. A hero didn’t give up, or act selfishly. A hero pursued his dreams, but always mindful of the cost, because to do so without honour rendered them worthless. A hero looked after those weaker than himself. Those who needed him.

To Angeal, that meant Genesis. The other boy came from the wealthiest family in the village. Like him, Genesis was receiving training in combat and other military arts, but he seemed better suited to more scholarly endeavours. He had a slightly dreamy air about him, although if someone was unfortunate enough to offend him, they’d quickly learn he had the temper to go with the red in his hair. He spent a lot of his spare time reading, and it didn’t take long to learn one volume in particular was his favourite: the epic play _Loveless_. Angeal thought he probably didn’t need the book – Genesis was quite capable of reciting every line of dialogue from memory.

Angeal asked him once why he liked it so much. “Because it has everything,” Genesis replied. “Friendship, romance, magic and adventure. Heroism and tragedy – and mystery, too, because nobody’s ever found the final act. It leaves you to wonder how it all ends.” And he sighed, his eyes focused on something only he could see.  “Does friendship triumph or fail? Will everything come out alright in the end so they live happily ever after, like the characters in some fairytale, or do they have to face the consequences of the choices they’ve made, and spend their lives regretting them? Even the most learned scholars cannot agree on the likely ending.”

Which ending was favoured by Genesis depended on what mood he was in, but he seemed to lean more often towards the tragedy. Something about it appealed to him, maybe because it seemed so much more passionate than something as bland and insipid as a ‘happy ending’. Genesis was a very passionate individual.

He’d be outraged at the realisation that Angeal thought of him as fragile, but it was true. Unlike Angeal, Genesis didn’t have a loving mother and a father who encouraged him. His parents were cold and business-like. They weren’t given to displays of affection, and only spoke to Genesis when his performance left them dissatisfied. He often thought the only reason Genesis cooperated with his parents’ plans at all was that he had a romantic image of what a hero was: someone who did great deeds, and was loved by everyone because of it.

And Genesis wanted that, very much.

So in the meantime, Angeal gave him all the love and attention he could, to make up for what he wasn’t getting, and they both worked hard to be the best heroes possible, even if that meant different things to each of them.

When they were fifteen, Genesis kissed him. At first, Angeal was surprised, and then he reacted the way any other fifteen-year-old boy would when being kissed by an attractive person – enthusiastically. It was only when things started to go beyond kissing that he managed to pull back, having second thoughts. “We shouldn’t rush into anything.”

“Why not?”

“Because it’s -” Angeal struggled to find the words. “It’s not something that should be treated casually. Other people shouldn’t be treated casually. It’s not… honourable.”

“But we’re not rushing into anything; we’ve known each other all our lives. And I don’t think it’s casual, either. Do you love me?” Genesis waited for the answer, in nervous expectation. It was that first time the word had ever been mentioned between them, but it didn’t seem shocking or abrupt now it was spoken aloud. They were the best of friends, and did everything together. It was just they’d never come out and said it before.

“Yes, of course I do.” Angeal never considered any other response.

“Then it’s okay.”

“I -” Angeal was still hesitant. He knew his father would never approve of him doing something like this, would want him to wait until he was older, more sure of what he wanted. Only he was sure of what he wanted; Genesis was the person most important to him, and he wanted it too. And he was quite sure he wasn’t ‘letting his smaller head do his thinking for him’, although it was certainly being rather insistent in making its wishes known. That was one particular lecture he never wanted to receive again; the first time had been bad enough.

Then Genesis pulled out the big guns. “Don’t you want me?”

Angeal couldn’t deny Genesis anything when he looked like that, so breakable in ways that had nothing to do with fighting whatsoever, and his teenage hormones didn’t want him to try that hard anyway. So their first time was together: it wasn’t perfect, nor was the next time, but over the course of the following months, they learned their way around each other’s bodies, finding those touches and places that made the other moan with pleasure.

One day, Genesis came to knock on Angeal’s door with a look of absolute joy in his eyes and a long, wooden case in his arms. “Look what my parents gave me!” Inside the case was a sword, the blade inscribed with intricate patterns of red and silver. There were several materia slots in the hilt. Two glowing orbs were already equipped in a linked pair of slots: an elemental materia and the same fire materia Genesis had shown such an affinity for in their training, so much so that he’d Mastered it in a short span of time.

Angeal knew that Genesis’ delight with the gift wasn’t just for the beautiful sword, an expensive piece of craftsmanship he was sure was worth a small fortune even without the materia, but for the fact that his parents had given it to him. He hoped his friend wasn’t reading too much into that, but his hopes proved futile when they were told just a few days later that they were leaving for Midgar to join SOLDIER, ShinRa’s elite fighting force. That was the reason behind the gift, and not any sudden concern or affection for the child they usually ignored.

The night before they were to leave, Angeal’s father pulled him aside. “I have a gift for you,” he told Angeal gravely. He unwrapped a massive sword, plain and unornamented, with a blade wider than the span of Angeal’s hand. “This sword is our family’s pride. Wield it with honour, and never forget what I have taught you.”

It was nowhere near as beautiful as Genesis’ fiery blade, and it would be difficult to fight with such a heavy, unwieldy weapon, but meeting his father’s eyes, Angeal vowed to learn to use it with all possible skill, and to always keep it safe.

Then it was off to join SOLDIER, because that was where the best fighters were, and they did well. They had started to settle in when war began with Wutai, and for the first time, they met Sephiroth.

Nothing could have made that first meeting anything but a surprise. Neither the reports on his abilities nor the talk amongst the ranks could adequately prepare anyone for the reality of Sephiroth.  The silver-haired teenager effortlessly pulled off feats of strength and skill that nobody could match. He snatched victories form the jaws of defeat, and there was something about him – the cool, calm way he reacted to things in battle, the grace with which he fought, even just the sheer beauty of his physical appearance – that drew the attention and awe of everyone around him. Genesis didn’t need to hear the talk amongst the men to know what he was looking at. A hero.

Angeal saw something different. He saw someone just a little younger than them, who acted cool and calm because he didn’t think reacting emotionally would get him anywhere, who didn’t know how to laugh at a simple joke, or make friends with his fellow SOLDIERs. Someone who was awkward and isolated, and needed friends to teach him how to smile, how to laugh, how to enjoy life beyond combat. Someone who needed. So he set out to make friends with Sephiroth, and because he would never dream of excluding Genesis from anything he did, he expected the two of them to become friends, too.

Perhaps that was where everything went wrong.

If they’d remained distant from Sephiroth, perhaps Genesis wouldn’t have felt so inadequate, threatened by the friendship the other man had with Angeal, who’d always been _his_. He wouldn’t have constantly had it waved in his face that there was someone stronger, faster, better, _more_ than he was, than he could ever be. But Angeal didn’t see this until too late.

At first it all went well. For all his skill and his knowledge of military matters, Sephiroth was surprisingly ignorant of other things. Angeal and Genesis dragged Sephiroth along on their after-hours activities: everything from friendly sparring matches to shopping trips to several performances of _Loveless_. Sephiroth didn’t seem to see any reason to do such things, but when Angeal pressed him, he couldn’t think of any reason not to, and so usually gave in. Finally, he asked Angeal why he kept doing this.

“Because we want to be your friends,” Angeal replied.

“Friends? With me?” Sephiroth sounded like this was a foreign concept.

“Yes. You look like someone who needs them.”

He didn’t get an immediate response to this, and he didn’t expect one. But several days later, he saw Sephiroth smile for the first time, and it was enough to break his heart. Sephiroth’s smile was a little shy, probably from lack of use, but it was so very _willing,_ and Angeal knew from the trust that it showed he’d achieved his goal: Sephiroth considered them friends.

Sephiroth even found Genesis’ obsession with _Loveless_ fascinating, although it had long since become a point of tolerance for Angeal. His education had never included things such as literature and the arts, and he was quite happy to listen to anything Genesis had to say on the subject with rapt attention. Within a year Angeal realised Genesis was no longer the only one who could likely quote the entire text without ever referring to the book.

It was Genesis, once again, who took things further, and Angeal wasn’t sure how he felt about that, at first. He’d thought that it was _theirs_, this thing between them, and yet when he and Genesis kissed, Sephiroth would watch them with a curious half-smile; not jealous or annoyed, just on the outside and it somehow didn’t feel right to exclude him, either. Although they’d seen all of each other before, they once again marvelled at just how beautiful he truly was with no clothes hiding him, and for all his strength, Sephiroth was sweetly submissive in the bedroom, perfectly willing to follow their lead in all things.

Maybe that was where he could have changed things, prevented what was between them from turning into something twisted and broken and wrong. He could have refused, told Genesis he didn’t want to share him, even with Sephiroth. Sephiroth would never have asked for more – it didn’t occur to him that he could. But perhaps that would have reassured Genesis in some manner that he didn’t have to compete for Angeal’s affections, because they were always his.

Or maybe even that was never enough to offset the way everybody else looked at Sephiroth. Larger than life and inhumanly beautiful. He’d talked enough that they knew at what cost all of that had come, but jealousy wasn’t a rational emotion. He was a hero and idol to the masses, the warrior that starry-eyed little boys and lower-ranked SOLDIERs alike dreamed of being. His physical appearance meant that he was sighed over by the women, and even featured in the sexual fantasies of no small number of men. Everything Genesis strived for, he achieved effortlessly, and he never even noticed it. Sephiroth was completely oblivious to the hero worship and adulation that followed him everywhere he went, and somehow, that made it worse. Sephiroth didn’t want to be a hero; he was simply surviving as he always had by following orders, however impossible they might be.

Genesis never came out and said anything. It was the little things Angeal noticed, instead. A touch of cruelty in the bedroom, where it belonged least of all. It made him angry, but Genesis would act offhand about it, as if he’d never intended any such thing. Angeal would sooth the bewildered hurt away from Sephiroth’s eyes, and their lover was always willing to forgive because he was used to pain, and that made Angeal even angrier at Genesis for causing it in the first place.

He tried to talk about it with the redhead, but it degenerated into an overwrought, emotional argument. It ended as such things always did, Genesis asking him, something fragile and desperate in his eyes, “Don’t you love me?”

“Of course I do,” Angeal reassured him. “I’ll always love you.”

And that was the end of that.

But suddenly the friendly sparring matches were less friendly, at least where Genesis and Sephiroth were concerned. Sephiroth appeared to remain unaware of the growing jealousy and hostility that lay between them, because they were friends, the only ones he’d ever known. He still smiled at them the same as always, shy and so very willing, and it hurt Angeal every time he saw it.

Then in their last match, Genesis pushed things too far. He received a cut across one shoulder. Sephiroth looked momentarily concerned and guilty, but when Genesis announced it was barely a scratch, he was reassured.

Perhaps Angeal would have noticed that Genesis was avoiding them if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his newest charge. He’d been assigned as mentor to a younger SOLDIER. Zack was as unalike Sephiroth and Genesis as night and day. He had the confidence of someone who had always been loved, and indeed, it was easy to love Zack. Bright, cheerful, gregarious, he made friends easily, and was generous towards others. He had something indefinable about him, and Angeal eventually decided it was heart. Zack had a big one, and he wasn’t stingy with it.

When Angeal asked him what his dream was, Zack announced confidently, “I’m going to be a hero!”

Angeal flinched.

But Zack wasn’t like Genesis, who needed it so badly and didn’t see that he already was a hero to so many people. Zack’s version of a hero was brighter than Genesis’s ideal; it held more in common with boisterous adventure stories than epic plays with romance and tragedy. Zack didn’t seem to have any doubts he’d achieve his dream, which he pursued with whole-hearted enthusiasm. Sometimes it was with too much enthusiasm, and Angeal set about training him to rein that in and use skill instead, so that it didn’t get him killed. He liked the role of teacher, and any time it was his he used the chance to pass on what his father had taught him, because heroics wasn’t all just about wielding a big sword and fighting.

When Genesis disappeared, Angeal blamed himself. He should have known something was up, should have noticed that Genesis wasn’t around much. They were often separated by the demands of missions and assignments, and usually they’d seek each other out immediately upon their return. Angeal had been the one most often found at ShinRa’s headquarters, yet Genesis never sought him out, and it was only when he added up the months he realised this wasn’t simply because he’d been on assignment all this time; Genesis had actually been avoiding him. He’d promised himself as a child that he’d always be there for Genesis, and he’d failed.

With Sephiroth away on various missions in Wutai, and nothing else to do with his time, Angeal focused on Zack, stepping up the boy’s training. But it still left him with nothing to do at night but dwell on his mistakes, and it was a long few months. When the mission to Wutai came, for both of them, he told Zack of his nomination for promotion to First Class, and smiled at the boy’s response. But mostly, he was smiling because at least, on a mission, he’d have to concentrate on something else.

Genesis’ sudden reappearance was unexpected, with and a relief. Angeal had felt lost without his oldest friend; it was strange to admit, after all this time, that he needed Genesis, too. Only the redhead had an increasing physical fragility to match his emotional state, one that tugged at all of Angeal’s protective instincts. And when everything was explained to him, he knew what he had to do. Genesis needed him more than ever, and he wouldn’t fail him this time.

Now as he watches a figure in a familiar uniform with spiky black hair make his way through Banora, Angeal thinks about the other people he’s failed instead. His heart stops a moment when Zack enters his own home, knows that there is no way the boy wouldn’t recognise the sword leaning against the wall inside. He wonders what his mother makes of his puppy, and when Zack emerges once again, a stricken look on his face, if he understands the message implied by his leaving it there: Angeal doesn’t feel he has the right to claim it. He misses the weight on his back, a link with the father who raised him, even if he’s no longer sure the man was his father in truth. But pride and honour have never felt further away than right now.

Zack being there is wrong. A mission to track down to renegade First Classes shouldn’t have been given to the newest, youngest addition to that rank. No, there is only one person who should have been given such an assignment, and his absence is an almost physical blow. Sephiroth never backed down from a fight, and they’d had to teach him rebellion. That he would refuse this mission is a sign of the friendship the silver-haired General feels towards them, a friendship both Angeal and Genesis have betrayed. Angeal knows the theories Hollander has regarding the Jenova cells and part of him really wants to go to Sephiroth, to apologise for abandoning him and ask for his help, but those bridges are burned now. He doesn’t think he could convince Genesis, anyway. More than ever, Sephiroth is a symbol of everything the redhead is not.

Angeal cannot avoid the guilt he feels over the hurt this has inflicted on the man who was once their lover, or the puppy he’s become so fond of. He doesn’t know why his father never told him you can’t be a hero for everyone, and that it will break you to even try. But he made a promise when he was a child, to protect and care for Genesis, and in the end, this is a promise he knows he has to keep. Zack is resilient, and the same heart which endeared him to Angeal in the first place will let him get over this. His protégé doesn’t need him as much as he thinks he does. And Sephiroth…

Sephiroth is a survivor. He’s still a man who desperately needs friends, but he’ll survive without them.

Angeal doesn’t let himself consider any other possibility, as he heads for the factory, and the man who is his oldest friend and lover.

Genesis needs him, and he won’t fail him again.


End file.
